Irving Wallace: The Golden Room

Next door was the art gallery, where oils and lustrous marble sculptures were shown, among them a copy of Bernini's Apollo and Daphne.

Entering the dining-room, Foley saw a handsome restaurant, tables laid with gleaming silverware on damask linen. Centred on each table was a burst of fresh flowers.

'One millionaire brought his business associates for dinner,' said Minna with pleasure, 'and his bill came to $1,500. We threw in the orchestra free.' She moved through the restaurant. 'Now come closer, Chet. What do you see at the far end?'

'A railroad Pullman dining-car,' said Foley with amazement.

'Correct. It's a replica, really, with the interior done in mahogany. Here we are. Look inside. There's the buffet. The guest may choose the food he wants and take it to one of the small tables in the Pullman, or go into the dining-room itself. Now I'll show you my very favourite chamber, used for conversations – and sometimes for orgies.'

Foley followed Minna into a parlour that glittered like El Dorado. He stood breathless, gaping at what he saw.

'The Gold Room,' announced Minna happily. 'You can see the furniture is all gilt, the hangings gold, the fishbowls edged in gold. Those eighteen-carat cuspidors cost me $650 apiece. The fountain in the middle of the room is spraying perfume. My favourite object is over there – the gold piano, real gold, cost me $15,000. It's two-thirds normal size, and except for the keyboard, every inch of it is pure gold, including the foot pedals. This is a wonderful room to chat with other male guests, or have some fun relaxing with one of our young beauties.'

As they left the Gold Room, Foley had a question. 'Minna, how do you decide which girls you want to work for you?'

'It's easy,' said Minna. 'You see a pretty and shapely girl, no more than twenty-one, working behind a counter in Mandel Brothers or Carson, Pirie, Scott. She works endless hours every day for six dollars a week. You learn if she's had sexual experience – the chances are she has – and you ask her if she'd like to make $300 a week with little real work and if she'd like to live in the lap of luxury. The odds are she'll grab at the offer. She must be over eighteen and use no drugs or alcohol or foul language. We never take on inexperienced girls or widows, because they are more apt to want to leave the moment someone asks them to marry. Every girl must be healthy, be polite, have the gift of being amusing. She must be ready to learn how to use make-up, how to dress well, how to have good Southern manners, and how to stay well informed. I encourage my girls to read the books in my library. Above all, I tell each new girl to give sex, but give it interestingly and with mystery. Now let's move on. I have more to show you on this floor before I take you upstairs.'

They entered what Minna described as the Japanese Room. The floor was covered with finely woven straw matting and there was a bamboo umbrella stand inside the door. Dominating the room was a carved Oriental chair on a dais over which was hung a canopy of silk. The chandelier suspended from the deep-blue ceiling had small Osaka parasols instead of lamp shades. The walls were painted with Japanese flowers in their natural colours. Above was a frieze of flying storks, with bronze panels depicting sacred dragons of mythology. Decorative artifacts strewn about ranged from iron tea kettles from Kyoto to hangings of Japanese fans.

Next door was the Chinese Room. The chandelier was a fringed temple lantern with painted scenes of Peking life. Carved ebony furniture was everywhere, and on one wall in a teak frame was an embroidered peacock. In the room's dim corner, Foley made out cabinets filled with exotic artifacts – snuff bottles, porcelains, and small bronze figures.

Dizzied, Foley trailed Minna into a vast ballroom with bandstand, divans, cushions, and statuary arranged on the parquet wood floor. Adjoining the ballroom was the Copper Room, with walls of hammered brass, and beyond that, the Silver Room, ornamented with filigreed lace and silver, and the silver statue of a mounted horseman next to a plush brocade chair.

Then came the Moorish Room, with foxskins on the floor, and incense burners in every corner. The furnishings consisted of a circular sofa with round tufted back, a potted palm beside it, numerous small octagonal tables, and chairs upholstered with rich gold-threaded brocade that touched the floor. On the fireplace mantel was set a hookah crusty with hashish sediment.

'There are no pictures on the walls,' Minna noted, 'because representational images are forbidden by Muslim law.'

With Foley by her side, Minna moved on to the Egyptian Room. On a frieze around the room and on the ceiling were drawings of ancient Egyptian scenes. A large stone fireplace bore sphinx heads which had been carved into the mantel.

Next, like a breath of fresh air, was the Blue Room. Its atmosphere was youthful, very American, with deep-blue divans and leather pillows printed with pictures of Gibson girls. Fittingly, each wall was decorated with lively college pennants.

Minna was particularly proud of her Music Room. A grand piano stood in one corner, not gold, not fancy, but very grand. Mirrors framed in Moorish arches lined the walls, and tufted Turkish furniture was scattered about.

Foley grew more and more dazed as they pushed on through the Green Room, the Rose Room, and the Red Room.

'Finally, the Mirror Room,' stated Minna, drawing Foley inside. 'What strikes you most?'

'The floor,' Foley gasped. 'The entire floor is mirrored.'

'Every inch of it,' said Minna proudly. 'It's often where we bring our guests when they can't decide which of our girls to choose. It's far more effective than the House of All Nations in Budapest. There, men surveyed a panel of photographs of nude women to select their favourites. A visitor would pick the photograph of the girl he liked most, and then touch the bell-push under her photograph. Immediately, the photo was covered, so the next visitor would know the lady was engaged and he would have to pick someone else. This Mirror Room is much better for making choices. Many of the things you've seen were created by Aida and myself. But the idea for this Mirror Room came from Babe Connors, the fat Negress in St Louis whose teeth were inlaid with diamonds. Babe had a Mirror Room, and I installed the same thing in this room immediately.'

'But why a mirror for a floor?' Foley asked.

Minna looked at him impatiently. 'This is where we have some of our best floor shows,' she said. 'Our girls come in here to dance for the guests. They're wearing evening gowns, but absolutely nothing beneath them. Those dresses are long, but not so long or narrow that you can't see anything. That mirror floor reflects what the girls are offering – which is to say, they're entirely naked underneath and that's what you see in the mirror floor. Titillating, don't you think?'

Foley reddened and stared at the floor.

'Yes, Ma'am,' he said.

Still bemused, he followed Minna out of the Mirror Room until they arrived at the staircase leading to the boudoirs upstairs. There were potted palms and Grecian statuary on either side of the stairs, and two thickly carpeted flights rose ahead of them.

'Usually,' said Minna, 'we allow the local press to have the run of the downstairs facilities. The upstairs suites are off limits. However, since yours is an introductory visit, I will show you a typical boudoir and introduce you to its occupant.'

Minna went nimbly up the staircase, with Foley immediately behind her. At the landing, she walked a few feet, paused before a door which looked like the others, and firmly rapped on it. Then she quickly opened the door and stepped inside, signalling Foley to join her.

The first thing Foley saw was a magnificent young blonde stretched languidly on a marble-inlaid brass bed. She put aside the book she was reading, and lifted her head as Minna brought Foley into the bedroom. 'Chet, this is Virginia. And Virginia, this is Chester Foley of the Chicago Tribune. I told you he would be here.' With a wide, sweeping gesture Minna went on. 'That's a white cashmere blanket Virginia is lying on. Note the mirrored ceiling, and the divan with the silver-white spotlight directed towards it. The other door beyond leads to Virginia 's bathroom, which has a gold bathtub. The roses next to the bed are freshly cut. There's a push-button concealed in the headboard that can call up another bottle of champagne. The oil paintings on the walls are all originals and imported from Italy. But the most brilliant work of art here is Virginia.'